Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
QUINN
Six months later
Fresh, warm spring air just hits a little different than regular air. I step out onto the barn patio in my gown and take a deep breath. Wedding Day. My heart is racing so fast that any moment now I’m going to get dizzy. I can’t believe today is actually here.
I touch the side of my hair and then drop it.
The hairstylist warned me to stop poking at it, but I hardly ever wear my hair up, and it feels a bit foreign.
I have so many bobby pins holding my curls in place that I’m worried I won’t remove them all tonight and I’ll accidently stab Zoey in my sleep.
After a phenomenal Christmas season, I took several weeks off in January to decompress.
My beautiful love even made a New Year’s resolution to cut her days down to four days a week by March, and she did it.
Four days! She hired more staff and bumped up Luna and Caleb’s hours.
Not that Zoey was ever worried about money, but when I officially moved in with her in February, cutting her costs by half, I think it gave her the extra breathing room she needed to not be at her place daily.
A butterfly lands on the railing, its wings fluttering in the sunlight. I’m trying to take this as the omen I need to confirm that today will be perfect. It has to be perfect.
The farm is beautiful, and ready for the ceremony. White lights, linen-covered tables, fresh flowers on every table. The ceremony itself will be small, only a handful of family and friends, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to skimp on any details. The brides deserve nothing but the best.
A click of heels sounds behind me, and I turn around.
Will Zoey ever not take my breath away? I see her every day, I live with her, and after Christmas ended, I was in her shop more than my own.
And yet, my breath hitches and locks in my throat every time she’s in my path. “Wow, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smooths down the fabric of her purple strapless gown and does a little spin. “You look stunning. Your sister picked out the best maid of honor dress ever for you.”
“Morgan picked out the best dress ever,” I say with a laugh. “God love Frankie, but pretty sure she didn’t even know I was part of her and Morgan’s wedding party until I planned the bachelorette festivities.”
Obviously, I’m joking. I never, ever see Frankie nervous.
It’s not part of her DNA. But when she told me she was going to propose to Morgan, and wanted me there to take pictures, I watched the ring box shake in Frankie’s trembling palms as she got down on one knee.
Everyone cried. Frankie, Morgan, me. It was a beautiful moment, and one that, hopefully, someday Zoey and I will have for ourselves.
So yes, Frankie was involved in the wedding planning, but Morgan is a wedding coordinator, and way more of a type A personality than my sister. I think even if Frankie had an opinion on a color scheme or songs, she probably would’ve kept them to herself.
The sun beams down, highlighting the chestnut in Zoey’s hair, and the turquoise in her eyes. She stands next to my shoulders, looks out into the property, and takes the same deep breaths as me. “How’s your sister doing today?”
“Today, she’s good. Yesterday, a little nervous. But now that the day is here, she is cool as a cucumber.” I wrap my pinkie around Zoey’s, and she curls her finger into mine. “Morgan on the other hand…”
Zoey chuckles. “It’s got to be hard for her to give up the control like this. Think she can let go and enjoy the day?”
I nod. I’m sure it is hard for Morgan to let go, but when she asked Zoey to manage the caterers today, and Zoey quickly agreed, I knew Morgan felt at peace. “I do. She left today’s details in very capable hands.”
“Yeah, she did.” Zoey grins. “I’m going to kick booty and take names.”
I laugh. “I love your feisty side.”
Zoey glances at me, a seriousness taking over. “I love all your sides.”
My heart blooms. I go to rest my head on her shoulder and whip it back. Dang hair. I want to kiss her, but the makeup artist also warned me about not ruining my makeup until after the ceremony. I guess I’ll settle for linked pinkies. For now.
“When we do this, I say we elope,” Zoey says. “Just me and you. Somewhere tropical. Messy hair. No makeup. No shoes. We’ll just let the warm sand sift through our toes. What do you think?”
When. She said when. I knew “when.” I’ve thought “when.” Once I decided to open up to love, once I found love, Zoey was instantly a “when.” Never an “if.” But I’ve never heard her say it. Not like this, not so sincere, so matter-of-fact, so casual.
Screw the makeup. I lean in and give her a kiss on the mouth, and let everything about today, this last year, fill me, complete me, make me whole. I pull myself back and smile. “Sounds perfect.”
*
If you adored seeing Zoey and Quinn find their bliss and want more sweet and sexy lesbian romances, you’ll love Not in the Plan.
Uptight, commitment-phobic writer Mack has finally found her muse.
But free-spirited Charlie is her opposite in every way.
They could never turn this into something real… right?
Get it here, or read on for an exclusive extract…